Misconceptions
by Olivia Wood
Summary: ABANDONED Halfway through Harry's seventh year of school, several interesting developments pop up that shed light on the past and confuse the present. Time-travel, no slash, minimal romance.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Notes: This was written before the release of OoP, but it really doesn't make a difference. There's lots of thinking and not much happening, but I'm trying to work on that. I really should have combined this with the next couple of chapters into one big long one… maybe that would have given the impression that something's actually happening, but then I'd lose my reviews… 

And just so you know, as much as I love dear Severus, I do not have a thing for dungeons. There will be a chapter, eventually, that does not take place in one.

**Chapter 1:**

 Footsteps echoed throughout the dungeon long after they had lost sight of their captors. Remus felt dazed. The whole situation had a surreal quality to it, intensified by the heavy metallic clang followed by the click of the lock, baring their only portal to the outside world. It sounded depressingly appropriate for a horror movie or a nightmare, but was out of place in reality. Although the events of the past half hour could very accurately be described as nightmarish, Remus knew he wasn't asleep… and he was pretty sure he wasn't going suddenly insane. The ringing in his ears died away and the silence, coupled with the smell of dust, mildew, and decay, became rather stifling. Suddenly realizing he'd been holding his breath he relaxed and let it out slowly. 

He tried to make out his two companions, but the darkness was absolute. 

 "So…" he said finally. It was hard to believe his eyes were open. 

 "What the hell just happened?" Remus jumped, the voice had come from right behind him, and he had been looking for Sirius in the space to his left. He turned and took a step back, but knocked into James, causing them both to lose balance and fall. James must have grabbed Sirius on his way down because soon the air was thick with swears recognizably his. 

 "Remus, Sirius, are you all right?" It was still pitch black. Remus vowed to learn the wandless equivalent of lumos once they got out of this mess. 

"Fine," he answered at last. Sirius grunted in the affirmative.

  The rustling noise coming from Remus' left informed him that James was getting to his feet. He shivered. The floor was cold, damp, and slimy; getting up seemed like a good idea, but before he could move the door at the end of the chamber was opened again and he was momentarily blinded by the sudden stream of light. He could make out the outline of a figure being dragged in by two others, but it was too skinny to be Peter. Remus recognized the taller of the two as the blond man they had 'met' earlier. The shorter one was cowering away from him and whimpered as it addressed him. Remus wasn't surprised, the man reeked Evil. They were close enough now for Remus to discern the man's response.

 "Put him in with the others, they're not going anywhere." Although he couldn't see his face, Remus was sure the man was smirking. He had his wand out and pointed at the prisoner, who was staggering slightly, as though not fully conscious. When they reached the cell already occupied by Remus, James, and Sirius, the blond unlocked the bared door with a spell and shoved the wizard, who was definitely not Peter, straight at James, who caught him but barely managed to remain standing himself. The man's eyes were glinting maliciously and, Remus had been right, he _was_ smirking. "Happy Reunion." He said, before slamming the bars shut and striding quickly from the room with the shorter wizard trailing behind. 

 Remus caught a brief glimpse of a bewildered James supporting a messy-haired teen about their own age, with thick, round glasses before they were plunged into darkness again. 

 "Who is it?" whispered Sirius from James' other side. "It's not Wormtail, is it?"

 "No…" Remus finally clambered to his feet. "Is he awake?" The wizard was groaning softly.

 "I don't know… What do I do?" The whisper was uncertain with an edge of desperation. Remus groped his way to his friend through the darkness. He thanked the powers that be there were still two and a half weeks until the next full moon as he helped James support the stranger.

 "Let's put him down on the floor." But the wizard (at least Remus assumed he was a wizard) seemed to have other ideas; he groaned louder and pushed off of Remus, apparently trying to regain his footing. They heard him take a couple of steps back and presumably lean against the bars. There was a moment of stillness, then:

 "Who are you?" The voice was hoarse and strained, yet surprisingly alert.

 "We could ask you the same question." That was Sirius. 

 A pause. "Hold on…" A soft rustling, a murmur, and a vague blue spot of light shimmered in the area ahead of them, materializing into a softly glowing sphere, about the size of a snitch, floating about two inches above the open palm of the stranger. Remus was impressed. The wizard was rocking his hang gently back and forth under the sphere and the glow was becoming steadily brighter. The way the ghostly-tinted light was illuminating his features from below accentuated the bags under his eyes… it was mildly unnerving.

 "What spell is that?"

 "So who are you?" Sirius again, blunt and to the point.

 "It's my friend Hermione's, and I asked you first."

 James sighed, and Remus could actually see him now. "This is Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and I'm James Potter." Remus turned back to him expectantly but the stranger just stared, and Remus thought he looked suddenly pale, although it was hard to tell in the eerie blue lighting.

 The light flickered and died.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Notes: Just so you know, book 5 came out at this point and this fic was almost discontinued after just the first chapter, due to a bout of post-OoP depression, and my unwillingness to attempt major amounts of angst. As you can see, I reconsidered, and you can review and tell me whether that was a mistake or not. J

I should mention, for the benefit of anyone who has not read OoP yet, (yes, all two of you!), that this fic is going to contain spoilers for all five HP books.

**Chapter 2:**

Harry felt as though he had been smacked abruptly, full front, by something large and heavy, or ran headfirst into a brick wall.

 He hardly registered that the charm he had so painstakingly set up had gone out as his hands curled into fists and he fought to comprehend what he had just heard. He considered repeating his query, but his mouth had gone dry and he suddenly didn't feel up to the task. He knew the answer would be the same, in any case; what he had seen of their faces in the dim light had been unnervingly familiar. He felt nauseous_. Damn Voldemort! Damn him and his bloody time-turners._ He leaned heavily into the bars behind him as he struggled with his emotions, trying to calm his ragged breathing. He was glad the light had gone out, he didn't want to have to look at them. _I should have expected this. What better way to use his newly acquired power over time than to mess my life up even more? Damn him_, he thought hysterically. _Typical, really… _

 His mind went blank, and he was unable think of anything for a moment… But he couldn't afford to panic now. _Get a grip on yourself._ He straightened up abruptly and tried to compose himself. _You don't even know it's them. Odds are they're actually just some Death Eaters in disguise or… it's probably not even them. Don't do anything stupid until you're sure._ He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, letting it out slowly. It had been a long time since he had felt so thoroughly at a loss. He wasn't thinking straight, he had to deal with this objectively. _Right. First things first._ Taking another deep breath, his voice sounding remarkably calm, considering the circumstances, he said "Prove it."

 Silence answered him. And darkness. Sighing in frustration, he set about repairing the charm, stalling for time. _What do I do?_

 "What?" That was Sirius; he recognized the voice now, although he hadn't heard it in over a year. It sounded much younger than how he remembered it… like in Snape's Pensieve... _Pre-Azkaban._ Harry didn't look up from the glowing ball that had reformed in his hand. _You don't even know it's him._ Realizing he had been silent for a while now, and that they had no idea what he was talking about (or pretending they didn't, whichever the case may be), he cursed himself silently, cursed the situation, and cursed Voldemort, them proceeded to elaborate. "Prove you are who you say you are."

 He looked up. They were staring at him with a mixture of shock, confusion, and disbelief, although James was leaning more towards bewilderment and Sirius looked downright suspicious. Harry lowered his right hand, the one holding the ball of light, and on pretence of steadying the charm brought his left hand over it, casting his own face in shadow, and focused his attention on Remus. Seeing him look so young made Harry appreciate afresh how much older and more haggard the present-day Remus looked. Harry hadn't been the only one hit hard by Sirius' death… 

_ This is too weird, I can't handle this._ Harry thought, as the Sirius in front of him cleared his throat loudly and spoke with unmasked distrust. "And who are _you_?" 

 Harry ignored him. He was still staring at Remus, so he addressed him instead. "How old are you? What year are you in?"

 Remus looked taken aback. "Sixth year," he said, hesitating a second before adding "Why?" When he didn't receive an answer, he exchanged uncertain looks with his two friends. Very cautiously, as though they thought Harry was deranged, they took a few steps back and proceeded to have a whispered conference. 

 Harry, meanwhile, was busy doing some very quick thinking. If they were in sixth year, and if they really were who they said they were, which was extremely doubtful, then they would have learned to be Animagi by now. He was pretty sure, although not entirely certain, that he had heard Hermione say that there was no way to fake the Animagus transformation; someone using Polyjuice potion (which didn't seem practical anyway, because you would still need the hair of his seventeen-year-old father and friends) or something similar wouldn't retain an Animagus' ability to transform. Any other type of human transfiguration required the use of a wand and an incantation, plus, while the Animagus transformation was instantaneous, most other transformations required at least half a minute to execute, and required the aid of an able bodied wizard with a wand to undue, or else were irreversible for a set amount of time… Harry frowned and bit his lip. Of course, that wouldn't mean that the whole thing can't be some sort of complicated illusion. He didn't know much about those, except that they were very hard to do and they would be studying the basics later this year; he vaguely recalled Hermione mentioning it in connection with the charm he was now holding, and cursed himself again for not paying more attention to her. How hard would it be to produce a real-time, life-sized, interactive illusion of a werewolf and two Animagi? Harry didn't doubt Voldemort's ingenuity, if anyone could do it, he could… 

 Then again, what motive would Voldemort have for sticking him in a cell with an illusion of the teenage versions of his dead father, his dead godfather, and his old Defense teacher? Did he think Harry would take them back to headquarters? Surely he didn't think him that stupid? Harry couldn't think of any other reason why he would be put in this situation, aside from wanting to cause him emotional pain, and he somehow thought even Voldemort wasn't that petty. Why fool around with illusions if the Cruciatus will suffice? Harry's frown deepened. Unless he wasn't actually here, but was asleep somewhere and the cell and the three people in front of him were all a hallucination or something… He shook his head as if to clear it. No, it would be almost easier to get the real thing. And he _did_ know for a fact that Voldemort's latest plans involved time-travel. The Order had been in an uproar over the possibility. Dumbledore had said Voldemort had stolen enough from the Department of Mysteries to travel across a century, surely that would also be enough to pull three people through a couple of decades? 

 Harry glanced up nervously at his three companions. They were still whispering together, now occasionally throwing him dark looks. He was starting to doubt his earlier conviction that they weren't genuine, and it was making him uneasy. Assuming that they were what they seemed to be, though, out of all the things he could do, why would Voldemort choose to bring them here? Voldemort wasn't stupid, he knew that if he changed anything too major he would risk destroying himself in the process. Did he intend to keep them here, or return them to their time? Did the Imperius curse, perhaps, work across time? If he kept his father here, he, Harry, would never be born, Voldemort would never loose his body the first time around, and, presumably, the first Rein of Terror would never end… But then why bother bringing along Sirius and Remus? Did he hope to turn them all to the Dark Side? Or cast some spells on them that wouldn't become active until years later? Judging by his own limited experience with time-travel, and his rather more extensive experience with Lord Voldemort, Harry had to admit, however reluctantly, that the idea presented possibilities. It also made his head pound. 

 He was getting ahead of himself, anyway. The simplest solution is usually correct: they were Death Eaters and they couldn't even do the Animagus transformation. And this was easy enough to check.  


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Notes: I went back and added a prologue, and it's pushed everything up a chapter. 

This chapter took years to write, but it's probably my favorite so far. And it's actually pretty long, when you consider that _absolutely nothing happened_… Ah, well, maybe next chapter. J

And don't worry, I'm not actually going to write myself in. 

**Chapter 3:**

 Somewhere below the feeling of confusion and vague terror that had dominated his emotions for the past half hour (and it was hard to believe it had only been half an hour), Sirius Black was starting to get annoyed.

 He had no idea what was going on. Less than thirty minutes ago he had been enjoying a butterbeer with the charming-if-petite Leslie Hills and the glamorous Olivia Wood, and now he was stuck in a cell in some bloody dungeon and he had no clue as to why. It was extremely irritating. He didn't know why the Death Eaters, if that is indeed what they were, had apparently targeted him and his friends. He didn't know where they had taken him, and he didn't even really know how he had gotten here. He didn't know where Peter was and why he wasn't with them. Most importantly, he didn't know, assuming their captors really were Death Eaters, why he was still alive. And he had absolutely no clue as to who the wizard in front of him was.

 Surprisingly, it was the last of these that irked Sirius the most. The kid didn't look any older than they were, he was a couple of inches shorter than James, had a thin build, dark hair, and wore a nondescript baggy tee-shirt and jeans. His appearance would have been altogether unremarkable and unimpressive if not for the brilliantly green eyes that shone from behind the round frames, clearly visible even despite the poor lighting and the shadow the wizard was casting (deliberately, Sirius thought) onto his own face. 

 But what the wizard lacked in formidability he made up for in creepiness. He was undeniably creepy. It was creepy the way he seemed to know who they were, creepy how he kept staring at Remus, while completely and deliberately ignoring him and James. The odd mixture of emotions that flickered past his features was creepy, and the way he wouldn't answer any of their questions, but just stood there, lost in thought, as if the situation meant a lot more to him than it did to them, was creepy. And the dungeon would have been creepy enough without him in it.

 "Who d'you reckon he is? I've never seen him before in my life, and he looks around our age, so he should go to Hogwarts."

 "Just because you don't remember seeing him doesn't mean he doesn't go there, Sirius," whispered Remus. "And anyway, maybe he goes to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons or something. He must go somewhere if he can do wandless magic like that. Have either of you ever heard of anything like that spell? And he said it was his friend's?"

 "I haven't. Why do you think he keeps on staring at Remus like that? And why did he ask us to prove who we are, when we don't even know him?" said James.

 "I don't like him," whispered Sirius. "He's creepy."

 "Do you think he knows where we are? Or why we're here? Or where Peter is?" said James.

 "Are you sure he was with us?" Remus sounded desperate.

 "Pretty sure…"

 "Yeah, he was definitely with us," answered Sirius, shifting around uncomfortably. They exchanged nervous looks.

 "Who were those guys in the hoods? Death Eaters, do you think? That blond guy was definitely evil enough." James said uneasily.

 "If they _were_ Death Eaters, I don't know what they'd want with us. I mean, we're all pureblood, right?" Sirius was staring at the stranger with his eyes narrowed. "D'you reckon he's one of them?"

 "I don't know…" Remus whispered slowly. "That still wouldn't make any sense. It looks like he's in the same situation as we are… Why did he want to know how old we were?"

 "Do you think he has a wand?" said Sirius abruptly.

 "If he did, he wouldn't be wasting his energy with that wandless spell." James pointed out.

 "Yeah, but if he _is_ one of them…" Sirius trailed off suggestively.

 "Then what? He doesn't seem to be doing much at the moment. I have no idea why we're here, but if they'd wanted to kill us I reckon they would have done so already… probably…" An uncomfortable silence filled the air when James finished speaking, and all three of them stared at the stranger nervously.

 Quite suddenly he looked up at them and took a step forward, as though he'd come to a decision, a determined look on his face. Again, he addressed Remus, occasionally glancing at James, but not looking at Sirius at all "Right," he said. His voice was neutral and Sirius got the impression that he was working hard to keep it that way. "I need to know if you are who you say you are. I know that you two," he glanced quickly at James and Sirius, then looked back at Remus, "are unregistered Animagi. I want to see you transform – the Animagus transformation can't be imitated." Sirius just stared at him, dumbstruck. "Right now," he added, sounding slightly irritated. 

 "How d'you – but nobody – how did you… ?" James regained the use of voice first, but Sirius was first to regain his composure. "Who are you, and why should we trust you?" He asked defiantly.

 The stranger was still addressing Remus, who just gaped back at him, horrified. "Do you have much of a choice?" he said evenly, apparently nonplussed. 

 However unwilling Sirius was to acknowledge it, he knew that, no, they didn't have much of a choice. If it wasn't for this guy, whoever he was, they'd still be standing around in the dark. Sirius had no idea how the stranger could have found out that he and James were Animagi. Nobody knew except him, James, Remus and Peter. _Just when I thought he couldn't get any creepier… _thought Sirius. But since he already knew, there wasn't much that they could do about it… and he did seem to have a much better idea of what was going on than they did, even if he didn't seem too willing to share at the moment … 

 Sirius glanced at his friends; Remus wore a tense, worried expression, and James was chewing his lower lip. "Who else would we be, if we weren't who we say we are?" James asked suddenly. 

 "Death Eaters." was the answer. Nobody said anything for a moment.

 "Well?" the stranger said finally. "Are you going to transform?"

 Sirius turned to James. "Couldn't hurt?" he said. James nodded.

 Sirius couldn't take the tension anymore. He wondered vaguely how the stranger was going to see him change when he wouldn't even look at him, transformed with a little pop, and jumped on the stranger, lolling his tongue and wagging his tail madly. The wizard staggered a few steps back, startled, and dropped the little ball of light, which, to everyone's surprise dropped to the ground and rolled away a few feet. Sirius could see Remus staring after it, as he leapt back and sat obediently on the floor, tail still wagging, not wanting to push his luck. The stranger shot him a pained look and summoned the charm back into his hand with a little flick of his wrist. "Alright, you do it too," he said to James, sounding slightly nauseous. "Great," he said after James transformed, although Sirius thought he sounded as though he had hoped all along that they actually were Death Eaters. "You can turn back now."

Author's Notes: Next chapter: Portkey! – Anti-climatic, I know…


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Notes: It's cheesy, I know, but what're you gonna do? (Hides in shame.) Nothing much happened here, either, but it had to get written. It might get changed. The story'll get better later, I hope.

**Chapter 4:**

_Great_, thought Harry_. So either Voldemort really did bring the sixteen-year-old versions of my father, Sirius, and Remus up from the past, or else I'm missing something really big._ What was he supposed to do now?

He didn't have his wand, and even if he did, it probably wouldn't have done him much good. He had a nasty feeling, mostly from the way Lucius had strolled around the place earlier, that he was in Malfoy Manor, and Lucius Malfoy could be counted on to make his dungeons impenetrable. He could feel the tell-tale tingle of Anti-Apparation wards. That left his set of emergency portkeys.

He had been searched earlier, and Malfoy had taken both his standard set of Order portkeys, as well as his backup set, in the form of a couple pieces of change, but he had overlooked the extra set Dumbledore had insisted Harry carry at all times. Harry had thought it was overkill at the time, but he was glad he had listened to Dumbledore now… always assuming, of course, that portkeys even worked in this place.

So… the lint in his right-hand pocket was the portkey to headquarters, which was out of the question. He was not going to portkey there; even if these people, (Harry winced), were genuine, there was always the chance that the route would be traced. This was lucky, in a way, as Harry had serious doubts as to the ability of four people to travel by a portkey that consists of half a handful of lint. His right shoelace was the portkey to the Dursleys, and one he never intended to use, no matter the circumstances. That left the spare piece of thread in his left pocket. He took it out and looked at it dubiously. Christmas break didn't end for another two days, at least, and everybody had gone home for the holidays; Hogwarts would be empty except for Dumbledore…

Harry looked up at his companions; all three of them were starin at him with their mouths open.

***

This was too much. Sirius wondered at the possibility of this all being an elaborate butterbeer-induced hallucination. He'd never passed out on a date before, but then there was a first time for everything.

"You look just like James!" he blurted out stupidly.

The James-look-alike was now holding a piece of string in his left hand, and with the light shining directly in his face, his resemblance to Sirius' best friend was uncanny, despite the few inches difference in their heights. He shifted uneasily at Sirius' words.

"Uh, right," he said, and waved the piece of thread at them. "Look, when I say so, everyone touch this piece of string."

"Why?" James asked dubiously. He looked understandably unnerved, but seemed to have taken the stranger's cue to ignore their resemblance, in light of the circumstances.

"It's a portkey." The stranger answered curtly, not meeting anyone's eyes.

"A portkey to where?" asked Remus apprehensively.

"To Hogwarts."

"But what about Peter?" said Sirius.

The James-look-alike stared back at him. Unlike James' his eyes were green. "Peter?"

"Peter Pettigrew," supplied James. "Our friend, he was with us…"

"Where is he now?"

"How are we supposed to know?" burst out Sirius, who was starting to get seriously annoyed with the whole situation. "We don't know anything!" The wizard obviously knew why he looked like James; if he really was on their side, why wasn't he telling them anything?

"There's nothing we can do about that at the moment…" he said finally, his brow furrowed and chewing his lip nervously. 

Sirius would have debated that statement, but just then the door at the end of the dungeon opened again, and after the initial burst of light in walked the tall, blond Death Eater, sneer planted firmly on his pale, pointed face. He looked vaguely familiar to Sirius.

James-number-two turned his back on the Death Eater and shook the piece of thread he was still holding in his hand pointedly. Sirius took hold of the other end immediately; maybe it had something to do with his resemblance to his best friend, but as creepy as he was, Sirius was still more inclined to trust this stranger than the pale probably-Death Eater who had brought them to this dungeon, and who was now strolling towards them.

"What about Peter?" asked Remus halfheartedly, but he and James followed Sirius' example.

"Potter, what are you doing?" asked the Death Eater, who was quiet close now and suddenly suspicious, his wand raised, but it was too late. The green-eyed James had thrown the ball of light over his shoulder at the startled Death Eater before muttering something that sounded suspiciously like 'I love Professor Snape,' and the dungeon dissolved around them in a whirl of color as the familiar hook grabbed hold around Sirius' naval.

Author's Notes: Yay! I have 5,000 words!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Notes: I was going to wait till I had a longer segment to post this, but then I got lazy. At least it's consistent this way.

Also, it turns out that while it's perfectly acceptable for a painting to remain untitled, it's not okay for a story, and so, as you may have noticed, this fic is being tentatively titled 'Misconceptions.' It might get changed if I think of something better.

**Chapter 5:**

The dungeons dissolved around them to be replaced with…(Harry staggered as his feet hit the ground,) more dungeons. For a moment Harry thought the portkey hadn't worked, before he recognized his Potions classroom. He groaned; Snape was the very last person he wanted to see right now. 

He looked around at the others, all three of whom had fallen onto the stone floor, and were now getting up with sour looks on their faces, rubbing various bruised body parts. 

"Let's go," he said, and walked briskly towards the door. The hallway was empty and the torches were extinguished; it looked rather abandoned, and, more importantly, Snape-less. Harry strained his ears but heard nothing.

The others came up behind him. Silently, he opened the door and led them down the longer, darker, and more circular path out of the dungeons, but also the one that didn't take them past Snape's office. 

"Wait a minute," said James after a while, apparently regaining his confidence now that he was on familiar ground. "Why are we going this way?"

"Because I say so."

"But there's nothing down there except that old hall of armor…"

That made Harry stop in his tracks. He'd found out the entrance to the secret passageway he was planning on using through the Marauder's Map. If James didn't know about it, did that mean that he had led an impostor into Hogwarts, or that they simply hadn't discovered it yet? And if so, would Harry showing it to them now change the past? 

_As if introducing them to Snape wouldn't change anything_, thought Harry sarcastically, _in addition to bringing up a lot of unpleasantness and possibly revealing Snape's true political allegiances to potential enemies. And Dumbledore'll probably Obliviate them anyway…_Sufficiently justified, Harry turned around and, without saying a word, swept back the tapestry that hid the secret passageway, and motioned for the others to go through. Dumbfounded, undoubtedly at the possibility of somebody knowing Hogwarts better than they did, they followed him inside. 

After a long, dark, and cramped journey, during which Harry was unable to concentrate on anything due to the constant thumps and muttered curses emanating from behind him as his companions knocked into the walls and each other in the darkness, they finally came out near the Divination classroom on the first floor, and Harry, deciding it was wiser for him to find Dumbledore alone, rushed them inside. 

"You stay here," he said, "and I'll get Dumbledore." The others, apparently too shocked at finding themselves in a forest clearing, didn't argue. Harry hurried back out of the room, slammed the door behind him and muttered 'colloportus' before he realized he didn't have a wand. Slightly disconcerted, he sprinted up the marble staircase and up towards Dumbledore's office. Dumbledore would figure this out. Although Harry knew that the Headmaster wasn't infallible, he also knew that he was as close to it as it was possible for a person to be, and he knew from hard experience that the sooner his current problem came to the Headmaster's attention, the better. The possibility of Dumbledore being absent didn't even enter his head.

He was within sight of the stone gargoyle and severely out of breath when he heard his name shouted out behind him, and turned around in time to be swept into a hug by a very bushy-haired and very hysterical Head Girl. 

"Harry! We were so worried! What happened? Are you all right? You didn't come back so we went to look for you and we couldn't find you, and there were all these tracks in the snow! We tried to contact Dumbledore at Hogwarts but he wasn't there and then Mr. Weasley came home and said there'd been another attack on Azkaban and Dumbledore was helping out the Aurors, so I apparated but Ron had to stay back, you know how he is with apparation and there's all those wards around Azkaban – he must be so worried! -  and then by the time I found Dumbledore he said you were already at Hogwarts and he sent me here to see if you were all right," she sobbed. "Are you all right, Harry?" 

"I'm fine, Hermione. Where's Dumbledore?" asked Harry urgently.

"He had to stay at Azkaban. The Death Eaters had the Dementors with them and the Aurors couldn't handle it alone… I kept on thinking something bad was going to happen to you…"

"Wait," Harry stared at her, momentarily distracted. "You apparated to Azkaban? During a Dementor attack? Hermione, are you crazy?"

Hermione smiled weakly, wiping at her eyes, "I'm okay, Harry… What happened?"

Not quite satisfied with her response, but faced with more pressing matters, Harry reconsidered his options. He had no way to contact Dumbledore at the moment, but Hermione was here, and while she wasn't a perfect substitute, Harry desperately needed a second opinion. "Hermione, do you have a wand?"

"Yes. Why - Harry!" Alarmed now, Hermione nevertheless followed as Harry dragged her back downstairs. "What – Where are we going?" she managed to ask as they hurtled down the marble staircase.

"Hermione," panted Harry, as they neared the Divination classroom. "Now, don't get alarmed, but I portkeyed some people to Hogwarts with me."

"What…?" Harry slowed down as they reached the door, hoping that his 'guests' hadn't decided to go wandering anywhere. He took a deep breath, tried to open the door, and found that it was locked. Momentarily stunned, Harry just watched as Hermione took out her wand and muttered "Alohomora."

The door sprang open, and Harry pulled her inside. All three of the people standing among the trees in the room looked up at them. 

"Who's the girlfriend?" said Sirius, smirking.

Harry stared at him for a second before realizing he was still holding Hermione's arm. He dropped it promptly. "This is Hermione," he muttered, and Remus immediately looked interested.

"Harry, who are these peo-" and then she got a good look at their faces; her eyes went wide, her jaw fell open, and she stared at them for a full thirty seconds, which, Harry thought, was a lot less time than what it had taken him to get a hold on the situation. All three of them stared back. Then, all of a sudden, Hermione shut her mouth, grabbed Harry, and pulled him back out of the room, shutting the door behind them. "Harry…" she began, almost pityingly, "they can't be real."

"They can do the Animagus transformation," said Harry, annoyed at her tone.

She seemed to consider this. "They could be an illusion…" 

"They could," Harry agreed, "although I don't see what the point of that would be. Listen, Hermione," he said hurriedly, "I don't know why exactly Voldemort would want to bring them here –or now, rather- but we know this is something he's capable of, so I don't think we can just dismiss it outright. Remember all the fuss the Order and the Ministry made over the disappearance of all that stuff from the Department of Mysteries just after fifth year? And then recently they found that four-year-old version of that Muggle writer in London, and then the Ministry had to spend all that time sending her back? Nobody could see the point of that, either, beyond just being a new, insanely elaborate way to mess with Muggles and pester the Ministry… but what if it was a test run? What if what Voldemort really planned to do was to bring my father, Remus, and Sirius up from the past? –And Pettigrew, too, they said Pettigrew was with them, but I didn't see him- I don't know why exactly he'd do it, but I can think of several nasty possibilities-"

"Of course," Hermione whispered suddenly. During his speech she had looked increasingly disconcerted, but now she was gazing vacantly into space. Startled, Harry fell silent. "I always wondered, you know, what would make someone betray their friends of over seven years like that, but if Voldemort brought him to the future… and he could have kept him here indefinitely, nobody would have known…" She looked up at him. "_Anybody_ would have given in eventually… and Voldemort already knows he will, it's only a matter of patience for him."

As her reasoning finally caught up with him, Harry felt sick. "So you think it's possible?"

Hermione only shrugged helplessly. "That still doesn't explain about the others… If it really is them they must have had their memories modified, or else Remus would have mentioned this before now, and Sirius… We need to see Dumbledore."

Being the same one he had reached independently earlier, Harry was somewhat reassured by this conclusion. "What about them? Do we just leave them here? Maybe we should stun them…"

Hermione looked hesitant. "We don't know how long it'll take us, and stunning isn't permanent. It'll probably be better if we just lock them in again." And with that she took out her wand and cast the Locking Charm back onto the door.

"Right," said Harry, glad to have a clear course of action again. "We should go see Fawkes. He can send a message to Dumbledore. Come on, Hermione."


End file.
